Web Exclusive: A conversation with Dillinger Four's Erik Funk
Posted by Scott Heisel on 13-Oct-08 @ 11:08 AM

The last time DILLINGER FOUR released an album, American Idol premiered its first episode, John Gotti died from cancer and the jokes about R. Kelly allegedly peeing on a 14-year-old girl had only just begun. Ah, we were so young. Six years later, the band have finally come together long enough to lay down a new album for Fat Wreck Chords, the long-anticipated C I V I L W A R. Brian Shultz recently had a chat with vocalist/guitarist Erik Funk about the album, Funk's Triple Rock club and a follow-up that seems like it'll be released well before VH1 has time to air I Love The '00s.
I've heard a lot of fans, as well as yourself in past interviews, describe this album as more poppy than the band's past albums. But to me, it doesn't sound so much popper as it does just less rambunctious. I think that's true. I don't know if it's necessarily more pop--it's just... I guess the production's a little slicker. We didn't do as many guitar tracks as we normally do. We just didn't "noise" it up as much as we normally do. We spent a lot more time working on vocals.
So you would say it's less energetic--maybe less restrained? Yeah. It's definitely got a different flow to it. It's definitely not as frantic. Would you say the members got that out of their system in the side projects, or have you just calmed down over the years? Nah, I wouldn't say it's stuff like that. I just think the way the songs were written, it just seemed more right, instead of trying to push that onto it.
Was the album recorded in patches over the last few years? No, no, no. It was all recorded in the month of July. Well, a little bit in August. [It was] at the same studio [The Terrarium in Minneapolis] that we've recorded everything else we've ever [done]. I think we started on July 5. We just did it on and off, whenever we weren't working our regular jobs, and just stretched it out over a month or five weeks. We did a little bit of vocals in a different studio, but other than that, it was basically the same [way] we've done all the other stuff.
You've also mentioned in other interviews that the album took six years due to family and other band projects. Do you think these things will interfere to the extent that we won't hear another Dillinger Four album until 2014? No, no. [Laughs.] I actually think the opposite. The best thing about getting this one done is, we've really figured out sort of a system that works as far as when we can practice and how much, and maybe be able to write a little bit more separately. We did kinda change a bit [along the way in our process]. For a lot of years we were trying to do things the same old way when we didn't have jobs and we didn't have wives and kids. We figured out a way that works now. So actually, we're already talking about [a new] EP for next year.
Are there any details or ideas on that yet? No, not too much. If you listen to the new record, it's a little bit lighter on [vocalist/bassist] Paddy [Costello]'s songs, and he had a couple that he just didn't quite have ready. So the only thing we can say about [the EP] is that we can expect it to be a little heavier on Paddy's songs and a little less on mine.
Was it a challenge for you to take up most of the vocal responsibility on the new album? It's actually less [balanced] than Versus God, our second record, which I think was only one Paddy song and 12 of mine. It wasn't quite as much, but it was a lot. There was even one more song that didn't make the record that was another one of mine, so, it was a lot to write. But we did have six years to do it. [Laughs.] It wasn't too bad.
This is probably an obvious answer, but what is Paris Hilton a metaphor for? Oh. [Laughs.] That would be a bad one for me, because Paddy wrote that song, and who knows what comes out of the mind of that guy. [Laughs.] Sorry.
As a co-owner/manager of the Triple Rock, how did you feel about NOFX's tribute song to it, "Seeing Double At The Triple Rock"? It was awesome. We've played with them for the last few nights and they actually play it live, which is really cool for me--to see like all these total random strangers who probably don't even know what they're singing about. But it's really cool to see 2,000 people singing about my bar. [Laughs.] I love it. It was great. We were thrilled about it.
Speaking of which, how difficult has it been to balance the management of the bar with the band's increased activity over this year? It's a little bit [difficult], but not too bad. I co-own the bar with my wife and always have. So it's not like it's just down to me or anything like that. She's still there. We've had pretty much the same staff for most of the time we've been open, so by now everyone pretty much knows what to do and I don't really need to be there micromanaging it. I'd probably get in the way more than anything.
Does it seem like, because of how sporadically the band have played over the last few years, that you're more popular than ever now? You know, some people have been saying that, and I think in some ways, that's true--and we're lucky for it. I don't know if a lot of bands could've gotten away with taking as much of as a break as we did. A lot of people still care, so we're really lucky with that. But at the same time, it probably would've just been smarter to... I mean, if we really wanted to increase popularity, we should've just broken up two years ago and called this a reunion. That's a recipe that's been working for a lot of our friends' bands.
With all the controversy surrounding C I V I L W A R's leak online a few weeks ago, what is your take on it, and the band's take on it in general? We were surprised to see it become as big--I mean, the story became way bigger than our part in it. Or it wasn't really about our record. It was just about that circumstance. For us, none of us have a real strong position against people sharing music. I mean, I think that's fine. We didn't feel like we were getting ripped off or anything. Everything else related to it, between that writer and his boss... [Laughs.]... Whatever else happened, I feel like we're out of it. alt

FUCK THE MAN, ETC.
Dillinger Four are from Minneapolis, Minnesota. They formed in 1994.
C I V I L W A R is their fourth full-length record (preceded by Midwestern Songs of the Americas, Versus God, and Situationist Comedy). In terms of importance, they are to the ‘90s and ‘00s what Black Flag was to the ‘80s (without the Grateful Dead worship). It’s not only what they are—a great band—it’s what they’ve helped inspire, build, and represent. They’re an earthquake. They’re the Redd Foxx- mixed with the Chalmers Johnson of punk rock. In the time between April 12, 1861 and April 9, 1865, starting at Fort Sumter and ending at Appomattox, 600,000 Americans died in the American Civil War. That took almost four full years. Substitute beer and distilled spirits and add the constant distraction called life. Tack on two extra years. That equals D4’s Civil War. Another way to think about it is this: Have you heard the new Scared Of Chaka record? No you haven’t. They broke up. Dillinger Four didn’t. Celebrate that math. A third way to think about this: If this album were a child, it would be six years old and entering kindergarten. Get that kid real drunk and fit him into some smart pants, and that equals D4.

SUN TZU WALKS INTO A STRIP CLUB
Here are some jokes.
“Dillinger Four. Paddy from The Arrivals’ new band.”
“Dillinger Four, Billy from Scooby Don’t’s new band.”
“Dillinger Four, Erik from Billingsgate’s new band.”
“Dillinger Four, Lane from Spank Ray’s new band.”

TO ALCOHOL: THE CAUSE OF AND SOLUTION TO ALL OF LIFE’S PROBLEMS
Erik Funk (vocals, guitar), co-owner of The Triple Rock Social Club with his lovely wife Gretchen, spent two years tracing his family’s genealogy. He was surprised to find out that he didn’t descend from raccoons. The dark circles under his eyes remain a mystery. In his free time, Erik enjoys cooking and camping. His culinary Achilles heel is the McRib.
Lane Pederson (drums) got married to his lovely wife Cortney, had a kid, Sophia, and totally embraces the houseboats-on-lakes lifestyle (Minnesota’s got tens of thousands of lakes). Lane put himself through college by working at a liquor store. After getting his Ph.D. in clinical psychology, he now owns several clinics with a partner. He also has the drummer from Boston, Sib Hashian, on speed dial. They’re buddies. Lane disagrees that putting cheese on a burger makes it better.
Paddy Costello (vocals, bass) got poisoned by Gainesville fire ants, got tea-bagged by Billy Reese Peters’ front man Aaron Lay, and accidentally tea-bagged teen actress Lindsay Lohan while he was putting away luggage on a flight. Paddy is a charter member of the “merchant marines of independent rock.” In the past six years, he has played bass for, and/or is currently in these fine bands: The Arrivals, The Fuck Yeahs, Bloodbath And Beyond, Toys That Kill, Off With Their Heads, Cleveland Bound Death Sentence, Halo Of Flies, and Sean Na Na). To maintain his lifestyle, he tends bar at Grumpy’s (try the macaroni balls), and really missed his calling of starting his own religion based on stand-up comedy. Paddy was kicked out of the Troubadour in Hollywood for wrestling with Kiefer Sutherland.
Billy Morrisette (guitar, vocals) tends bar at and has earned the honorary title of The Patron Saint of the Triple Rock. His mom worked at the Hamm’s factory. His Dad is a biker. He Antietam’s the fuck out of the Golden Tee video game and darts. Several months ago, he bought some samurai swords off of the television set. One hot summer day, he came to the realization that he wanted to throw a pool party in his front yard. Summer Monday afternoons are now filled with Slip’n’Slide and inflatable pool action.
MIDDLE EASTERN VERBS FOR THE AMORE FANS
Dillenger Four is our name spelled wrong. We are new to the Hopeless family. Odds are that they will not sell many of our records as we have not a single ska song. Also none of us are tanned, hot dudes. However, we make up for this in sheer genius. You're already fucked. We formed in 1994 as the Ted Kennedys, the only reason we changed the name is because we eat shit. Chris Farley was a genius, and we miss him more than we miss Elvis Presley because Fat Elvis didn't make us laugh. At least not on purpose. Dellinger Four usually goes on tour a couple of times a year so we can lose tons of money in the name of D.I.Y. ethics while earning "street cred" we can eventually cash in on with the inevitable major label release, done in the name of artistic freedom, and the accompanying video aired on 120 MINUTES while we casually chat with Matt Pinfield about who played the skinflute on Journey's second album or some shit. The next time you see Against All Authority ask Big Dog about the time he smoked a joint with a chimp at Monkey Jungle in Florida. The bassist from Digger hates the Bad Brains but loves Sonic Youth, Dilinger Four says that's fucked up. We also think Leatherface's "Mush" LP is the greatest pop-punk record ever and also that you should have at least one Motorhead record for every one Ramones record in your collection because Lemmy's track record is far superior to Joey's. Dillenger Four would like to think we wouldn't have to say we're bothered by bigots, and right-wing mentality in general, however recently a fellow decided to get on the mic at a show in Chicago and "dis" all the "suburban bitches." If you do this we will have to make fun of you, too. And, just like him, you will get jumped on by us naked. We enjoy being drunk. As far as the rumors go; it seems the two most popular are that most of Dillanger Fore are homosexual drug addicts/dealers, or that we're totally die hard christians. They're both true. Oh yeah, and St. Patrick really did shit on that guy from Hot Water Music's chest, but it was only cuz he loved him. If you buy our record, please read the lyric sheet or else our effort was pointless.
Who Farted?
Hugs & Bruises,
$ DILiawdnfer FOusdar
  • FAT WRECK CHORDS
    Dillinger Four will be accompanying them on all dates, as they will be out in support of their new record, slated for an October release on Fat! They are, right at this very moment, recording at The Terrarium with Dave Gardner in Minneapolis, MN. This new full length has been highly anticipated since their last album, Situationist Comedy, came out in 2002.

  • Star Tribune By Chris Riemenschneider, Star Tribune
    Last update: November 29, 2007 – 5:03 PM
    • D4 ETA
    Tonight two shows at 7th Street Entry aren't the only thing that's on Dillinger Four's plate right now. "We have a lot of stuff written and are gonna take the next few months to finish an album," guitarist Erik Funk promised. Finally! D4's last album was 2002's "Situationist Comedy." Funk sounded excited about recording after the quartet recently played festivals in Florida and Chicago. Bassist Paddy Costello spent much of the year on the road with Chicago band the Arrivals.
  • April Fools: Dillinger Four (finally) outline details for "C I V I L W A R" Posted on Tuesday, April 1, 2008 at 11:30 AM (EDT)
    Dillinger Four has finally unveiled details for their anxiously awaited upcoming album C I V I L W A R. The album will be twelve tracks long, with equally long song titles. According to the band:
    We're not breaking a lot of new ground with this album, to be sure. Expect more of our whiskey soaked melodies with poorly recorded vocals and hilarious song titles. At this point we have no clue what to expect as a reaction except that kids on the internet just "filled the cup." Whatever that means. C I V I L W A R is the first album since their 2002 opus Situationist Comedy. The spirit is still alive however as evidenced by song titles such as "BitTorrent at 33rpm," "Relapsed Alcatholic" and "The Kids Will Eat This Shit Up." The full tracklisting is available by clicking Read More.
    Fat has confirmed these details and that they'll be gearing up for a late summer headlining tour with the Arrivals, Bloodbath and Beyond, Off With Their Heads and the rarely seen Cleveland Bound Death Sentence.

    CIVIL WAR
    Relapsed Alcatholic
    This Stinking Ship
    Live at Budokan!
    Royalty checks won't keep you warm at at night, but they will pay the heat bills
    The Kids Will Eat This Shit Up
    (THE SINGLE)
    The Only Thing Worse Than Having A Neckbeard Is Naming It Scott Heisel
    smartpeoplekeepaneyeontheircalendar
    Off With Our Style, Off With Their Cred
    The Last Temptation of The Paddy
    BitTorrent at 33rpm
    End Hits (wasn't that good of a Fugazi album anyways)


    • BACK OF GIRLFRIENDS 7"
    One of the often heard complaints about so called pop-punk relates to lyrical content. "Pop-punk is nothing but silly love songs-dumb ditties about girls featuring vacuous lyrics with hokey rhymes," runs the argument, "and punk should be about more than that.
    While I would content that ten years from now love songs will sound a hella better than tunes of the same vintage dealing with the oppression of California farmworkers by the Clinton Administration, or whatever the issue of the day is for "political" bands, I can only agree that one's diet should include a bit of fiber with those tasty empty carbos. If one takes the time to look around, though, one fact quickly becomes apparent: there are few bands capable of integrating poppy chops with sage and perceptive ltrics.
    Minnesota's Dillinger Four is one of the few.
    While it is clear form the tongue-in-cheek title of this record that the band and I differ about the value of silly love songs, a spin of this record has to make you wonder why there aren't more bands capable of combining musical catchiness with lyrical brilliance like Dillinger Four -T. Chandler

    Bringing It All Back Home · Vol 21 · Issue 1020 · 6/21/00
    CITY PAGES
    by Cecile Cloutier

    Barroom intellectuals Dillinger Four try spazzing out instead of selling out


    It was all good, clean fun until the guy in the koala suit showed up. On the evening of March 29, 1999, Minneapolis pop-punkers Dillinger
    Four played their first headlining gig at First Avenue, recruited as a replacement for the canceled Sleater-Kinney. For at least a few
    unsuspecting fans of the waylaid post-riot-grrrl trio, Dillinger Four must have felt something like finding your little brother's muddy
    footprints and green army men all over your white canopy bed. The boys had been singing their winningly snotty three-part harmonies fully
    clothed until a man in a ratty, cream-yellow bear suit barreled onstage to tackle burly bass player "St. Patrick" Costello, wrestling him to
    the floor. Soon the singer from the Murder City Devils was holding Costello's bass, attacking the strings with drum sticks and yelling, "I'm Kim Gordon!"

    Forty-five minutes later, some 50 people spilled off the stage, including members of Lifter Puller and the Strike, sending empty beer bottles rolling to the floor after screaming a cover of the Pogues' "Sally Maclennane." Costello shuffled off more slowly with his pants around his ankles and that koala bear's head covering his noggin like a battle trophy. Guitarists Erik Funk and Billy Morrisette just ambled off shaking their heads. The house lights came up. And as the club's video screen descended, drummer Lane "Monkey Hustle" Pederson howled something everyone in the audience might have agreed with: "THEY'RE NEVER GONNA LET US BACK!"

    Though that show assumed a prominence in D4 lore, it was not a radical departure from the usual routine, which includes shows such as the one where Pederson invited a stocky audience member to sumo-wrestle onstage ("He took umbrage at that," he says; "I only meant it as a gesture of goodwill!"). Or the one where the D4 rhythm section was booted out of the Entry in the middle of its own set (the band was subsequently banned). Or the one where Costello spontaneously disrobed (choose your gig). No one denies that booze-fueled mayhem is what gets D4 expelled from even hardcore havens such as the Coffman Union--yet perversely, they've been invited to the Weisman Art Museum and the Loring Bar.
    "Our history is a history of being asked not to come back," says guitarist Erik Funk, sitting with his three bandmates around a beat-up conference table in the bike-cluttered meeting room of the Triple Rock Social Club, which Funk co-owns. "When we play a basically normal type of show people [say], 'Whoa! That's weird! You just got up there and played!' We had so many shows that were extreme that it just seemed to be spiraling out of control. But it's not a goal."
    Still, Costello remembers what he says a First Avenue employee told him after the Entry ban: "What you were doing will probably be the exact same reason why they ask you back.'" Now, keeping with tradition, the Four are again headlining the Mainroom on Sunday, supporting their second, modestly titled longplayer, Dillinger Four Versus God (Hopeless).
    Looking at the guys in their "office," they seem pretty much like the twentysomething all-ages-punk-bred kids they are, adorned in army jackets, a few tattoos, and slowly growing-out buzz cuts. But their humor and personality is harder to peg. One minute the boys are recounting past scatological horseplay with a hearty glee, the next they're carefully and thoughtfully articulating why they attack issues instead of love songs. Usually bands who cut loose onstage as freely as D4 tend to devote what brain cells they haven't killed toward writing songs about cars, women, and killing even more brain cells. But Versus God takes a listen or two to sink in, not because the music is hookless and loud (try the big riff on the opener "Who Didn't Kill Bambi?"), but because the surprisingly subtle lyrics take time to work their way through the muscle.
    Dillinger Four's recurring theme is a bit more predictable: the co-option of mainstream punk. "We'll fan it while it's burning," Funk rails, assuming the voice of some imagined sellout on "Music Is None of My Business." "Then look for something else to blame/We'll take what's left and sell it/As little souvenirs of what before was here."
    Thing is, unlike bands who can sleep soundly knowing that obscurity is its own purity, Dillinger Four have realistic concerns about selling out. For one, they've sold more than 15,000 copies of their debut, 1998's Midwestern Songs of the Americas, on Hopeless, a specialty punk label. Now industry types and big tours have come calling. Yet since forming in 1994, D4 have stayed active in the local punk community, volunteering every week at Extreme Noise, and keeping the Triple Rock punk-friendly. The band remains committed to playing basement and all-ages shows. The guys even declined an invitation to join the Vans Warped Tour, worrying that the prices were too high, although they remain friendly with some of the bands on the program (Green Day's Billie Joe Armstrong is a confirmed D4 fan).
    Their conditions for accepting an invitation to play this year's South by Southwest music festival in Austin, Texas, were similarly exacting: It had to be an inexpensive show that didn't require participation in the industry conference. By all accounts, the gig was a success, although D4 members still think it was kind of corny, and they probably won't repeat the experience. The night before they played a more typical gig in a friend's basement in Warrensburg, Missouri, using borrowed gear. "We got 50 bucks or something," says Costello, "And they hooked us up [drink-ticket wise] better in the basement than they did at goddamn South by Southwest!"
    Clearly, there's a grassroots political spirit at work here beneath the hedonism. "It would be a lot easier to get up on the mic and go, 'Free Mumia now!'" says Costello. "I guess I would rather be considered political in the early Bruce Springsteen sense than the later period Crass sense."
    Adds Morrisette: "Poll tax! Oi!'"

    Imprint Online: New Revolutions - Friday, September 28, 1998 (Volume 21, Number 9)
    Dillinger Four
    by Christopher Giesler
    A very much undiscovered band, Dillinger Four propentuates the tendency to belt out anthem after anthem of raw, brute-powered punk ballads. Consisting of band members\ Billy (guitar), St. Patrick (bass), Erik\ (guitar), and Monkey Hustle (drums), Dillinger Four is presently signed on Hopeless Records along with the likes of Falling Sickness, Mustard Plug, 88 Fingers Louie, The Queers and various other boot-to-the-head punk-rock groups. D4's latest release midwestern songs of the americas made it to stores shelves June 23. It offers a decent mix of-do-it yourself, basement/garage punk sounds set to lyrics that constantly question the validity of society's many systems of rule. Punk, non? With songs like "Mosh For Jesus", "Hand Made Hard Times Handed Back", and " It's A Fine Line Between The Monkey And The Robot", one may be deceived and think that the content within may be lacking. Quite the contrary is true. Given some patience and an ounce of thought, Dillinger Four's lyrics are found to be creative, clever, and perhaps even intriguing. If you're not too sure that this band fits your music mold, check out the Hopelessly Devoted To You Too compilation put out by Hopeless Records to get a taste of D4 and other Hopeless bands. On it you'll find several previously unreleased tracks from various Hopeless bands including "Bite The Curb, Bite The Curb" from Dillinger Four. A final option rests at one of the most innovative and unique label site ever produced, hopelessrecords.com, where a glut of info can be found pertaining to the Hopeless label.

    Punk is as punk does: Dillinger Four stays true to a do-it-yourself ethos
    Vickie Casey/Star Tribune
    ''How much art can you take?'' is tattooed across Paddy Costello's barrel chest. With lettering nearly as big as the alphabet banners that hang above kindergarten chalkboards, it's less a question than a challenge -- a declaration of war that has Costello --bassist, vocalist and songwriter for Dillinger Four -- pushing the audience with his brayed ribbing, cynicism, nudity and gore. The idea that Costello's performances are art might sit as well with some people as Twisted Sister did with Tipper Gore. But his scathing diatribes, a penchant for revealing his full girth onstage and the reckless bass playing that leaves his fingers a bloody mess all speak to his conviction. And you're not very punk if you haven't got loads of conviction. By that standard, local outfit Dillinger Four is very punk, from the decisive manner in which it handles its affairs to the steady and deliberate performance with a stream of Budweisers during an interview. As far as nudity goes, Costello reasons that because of his bulk, "It's something people have never seen before. "I've been trying to get away from it but we're living in such a day and age of the professional band that I'm bored," he said. "I'm so bored with the guy who thinks it's cool to dress like your science teacher from junior high, playing this slow song about something that happened to him and the lyrics don't make any sense and the guitars are out of tune. You know, Jonathan Richman didn't try and be a nerd, he just was."

    With a repertoire that sounds more akin to the snotty pop of Green Day than the power explosions of Fugazi, the band posits itself as keen commentators, vehemently attacking complacency, boredom and social ills. Its new sophomore album, "Versus God," kicks off with the directive "I want you to pay attention." It's impossible to ignore the onslaught that is Dillinger Four. The members of the group gathered recently at the Triple Rock Social Club on the West Bank, owned by songwriter/guitarist/vocalist Erik Funk (who is blessed with the ultimate rock 'n' roll surname). With Costello and drummer Lane (Monkey Hustle) Pederson --guitarist Billy Morrisette was unable to make it and had a stand-in tell his story --heir conversation reveals an allegiance to a hard-core, do-it-yourself ethos."Not to get hippie drippy or anything, but if there was an ideal of punk that we try to adhere to, it's that we're trying to set up something different than what's already existed," Costello said. Where Dillinger Four differs from some peers is that it unapologetically makes some of the punchiest punk around -- and isn't afraid to sell it in chain stores so that everyone has access to it. It isn't afraid of playing trailer parks in Biloxi, Miss., or basements in Minneapolis. And, unlike other punks, it's unwilling to crank out one record after the other, spending time in the studio to get a "fat fuzz" on the bass or the right vocal take.
    KNOCKING OPPORTUNITY
    Funk and Costello grew up in Evanston, Ill., a stone's throw from the Chicago city limits. Funk started touring at age 16, coming to Minneapolis with the "chug-a-chug hard-core" of Bloodline. He and Costello enrolled at Hamline University in St. Paul and formed Dillinger Four with Pederson as a trio six years ago, later pulling in Morrisette from the band Scooby Don't. Morrisette is a St. Cloud native who spent his junior-high years as a cellist. Pederson hails from Worthington, Minn., and is finishing up his doctorate in psychology at the University of Minnesota, a pursuit that quite likely makes him one of rock's smartest drummers. Over the past six years, the group released a slew of 7-inch singles, now available on a CD compilation, and then the 1998 full-length "Midwestern Songs of the Americas." Working from the bottom up, the band spends as much time playing basements as it does clubs. It has toured the nation several times, won over audiences in Japan, managed to sell more than 20,000 copies of "Midwestern Songs" and recorded a split single with Billie Joe Armstrong's (Green Day) side project, Pinhead Gunpowder.

    But it passed on playing the Warped Tour and an offer from heavyweight punk label Epitaph. While Dillinger Four extols the charms of Armstrong ("I told him I was in themood for jerk chicken, and he bought me a whole chicken," Costello said), 7-inch singles, 30-minute sets and its desire to play any venue filled with real music fans, the group is steadfast in its pursuit of how to be punk. Funk said the group rejected Epitaph's offer because its current label, Hopeless, is "super cool" and does a fine job of distributing the band's albums. "It's no slag on Epitaph, but we talked about it and we decided we're not in a position to become small fish on some big label," he said. "I think a lot of bands look at something and it's almost like they feel they need to grab it because it's 'the Opportunity,'" Pederson added. "I don't think we've ever felt like that. We have opportunities and we take them or leave them. ... No one opportunity is our last opportunity or some big catapult to something else." Dillinger Four is comfortable with creating its own opportunities, and the new record has plenty to appease pop, punk and rock fans alike. Clocking in at 31 minutes, the album unfolds like an punk-perforated pop continuum. Between-song silence is filled with spoken-word samples lifted from comedy and religious albums. The songs poke fun at punk ("Q: How Many Punks Does It Take to Change a Lightbulb?"), question the value of religion ("Last Communion") and take a shot at right-wing ideology ("Let Them Eat Thomas Paine"). With succinct sonic fortitude, Dillinger Four artfully couches its lyrically astute barbs in a flaying pop-punk frenzy. "Brevity is the whole thing," Funk said. "If you can't entertain the crowd and have a good time and keep it to 30 minutes or under, that extra 15 minutes isn't going to get you anywhere." And going nowhere is not something that interests Dillinger Four. "The genius of the punk subculture is that you don't have to go outside of it if you don't want to," he added. "You usually hear Patrick going, 'You don't like it, go ahead and go, we don't mind. It doesn't get any better than this, it really doesn't.'"

    Copyright 2000 Star Tribune. All rights reserved.

    Bringing It All Back Home Vol 19 Issue 916 6/24/98

    Gang of Four

    by Peter S. Scholtes

    Rock the basement and pour beer on your ass with pop-punk heroes Dillinger Four.

    Fun is a crucial component of any kind of solidarity. Take local pop-punks Dillinger Four. When I reached singer-guitarist Erik Funk by phone, he was scheduling a secret gig on a boat coasting around Boom Island where the Mississippi traverses Northeast Minneapolis. The stunt is an homage to the Sex Pistols' 1977 Silver Jubilee "concert" on the Thames, at which the band celebrated the 75th birthday of its sovereign biddy with an infamously invidious version of "God Save the Queen." Twenty-one years later the voyage is the perfect D4 detour--plotting a steady course between retro punk and good-natured prank.

    "I've tried to explain to the boat company what we're going to do," Funk says, less worried than amused by the possible ramifications of D4's show. "But I don't think they really understand. I keep telling them it's going to be really loud rock, but they just say, 'Yeah, no problem.'"

    The average age among the Dillinger Four is probably 25, and by all accounts they drink like sailors. Yet the band's collective spirit is reminiscent of Ian MacKaye's classic Minor Threat maxim, "I might be an adult but I'm a minor at heart." They obviously care about the scene that made them--the nonclub punk underground that many of their peers ditch as soon as they turn 21--and the band seems to have put a lot of thought into why their basement-based scene is valuable and unique. The D's scruffy pop-core appeals to fans of Green Day and Avail alike, and their ripping live show has won over a large sector of the Cities' compartmentalized punk scene.

    The foursome's just-released debut album, Midwestern Songs for the Americas (Hopeless), places their trademark scratchy guitars and vocals in a plush, pop-savvy context. Recorded earlier this year in what sounds like a crowded sewer tunnel, the appealing racket is thick rather than slick, the lyrics thoughtful rather than ranting. But no amount of seriousness deters the band from adding drum-machine programs to end a tune called "Dick Butkus," or from sampling both Otis Redding and apocalypse-giddy TV preacher Jack Van Impe, or giving a sober song about drinking the title "Honey, I Shit the Hot Tub." After all, this kind of whimsy can only be expected from musicians who dye their pubic hairs.

    In the lads' Minneapolis practice space, the Dillingers are surprisingly polite and witty for a band of reputed streakers and "beer punks." Funk wears a nose stud and a T-shirt bearing the name of the local punk outfit the Quincy Punx, while bassist and co-vocalist "St. Patrick" Costello has sideburns and dons a blue work jacket. Across the room sits subdued guitarist and vocalist Billy Morrisette. (It's a "vocal practice" tonight, so skin-smacker Lane Pederson, a.k.a. Monkey Hustle, isn't here.)

    When I ask the band to compare the few clubs they've played to the basement scene that spawned them, they all agree that home is where the house is. "Our ideal type of shows are illegal, actually," says Funk. "Like some place that's rented or broken into. In that type of situation, the band and the audience's freedoms aren't restricted by anything."

    In fact, the band's first show took place at Costello's workplace in the Warehouse District back in the spring of 1994. "Everyone had to get there at midnight," recalls Funk. "And they all had to meet at a cafe nearby, because no one knew exactly where it was gonna be--sort of like a rave." Costello and Funk, who hail from Chicago, assembled the emergent Dillinger Four out of various other Minneapolis bands. A period of incestuous commingling followed, with overlapping acts including Scooby Don't, Man Afraid, Creepers, and, most recently, a band formed with acclaimed fanzine author Aaron Cometbus called Cleveland Bound Death Sentence. "For a while, there were like eight of us who had 12 bands," says Costello, laughing.

    While this extended band network was supportive, the fragmentation of the wider punk scene meant that playing shows with other groups in different subcategories (say, the "thousand-mile-an-hour hardcore" genre) proved difficult. "We once played one of those houses where everyone there knew most of the bands already," says Funk. Costello jumps in, saying, "It was an emo[core] show and people were drifting off to other parts of the house. And we said, 'Ah, the hell with it,' and we just made it a free-for-all. Not in any violent way, but just by jumping on each other and making stupid jokes. That's when people started coming back."

    "Our drummer stood up on his drum stool," Funk remembers. "He turned around, and he had these little briefs on that he hiked up Sumo-style, and he started pouring beer on his ass and slapping it. You could see all these reserved kids going out to the other room saying, 'You've gotta see what's going on there.' Beer was flying everywhere, and you could kind of tell that this was not a house where beer flies everywhere."

    The band's predilection for public nudity got them in trouble with First Avenue, where they haven't played since a particularly wild 7th Street Entry gig two years ago. But the Ave. just booked them for an all-ages show this July 12, and with the club's apparently renewed commitment to booking hardcore/punk shows, more may follow.

    "We've had a very touchy relationship with established rock clubs over the past few years," says Funk, emphasizing the way clubs dominate the scene, regardless of the numbers of fans attending nonclub venues. "That's the way this town works: The underground exists, but when a band from that world plays one of the clubs, they're sort of 'validated.' My point is, houses are just as valid as any club."

    As pop-punkers who, in their words, try to handle themselves like a DIY hardcore band, the D4 are quick to boost some of the peers they love--Lifter Puller, Code 13, Stray Bullets, the Strike, and Irish pub-strummers the Tim Malloys. And they're going to stick to their all-ages agenda. They even extend the inclusive spirit to your faithful columnist by coaxing me behind the drum kit for a cover of the Sex Pistols' ferryboat anthem "God Save the Queen." In an era when most tight and charismatic bands bed down with corporations two minutes after leaving the garage, Dillinger Four are keepin' it rotten.

    Bringing It All Back Home Vol 19 Issue 916 6/24/98
    Published Tuesday, May 15, 2001
    Dillinger Four wins 3 Minnies including artist of the year
    Jon Bream/Star Tribune

    One guy owns a bar on the West Bank. Another is pursuing a doctorate in psychology at the University of Minnesota. When they get together with the other two members of Dillinger Four, they make a bracing punk-meets-pop racket that thrills the various factions in the punk world. Dillinger Four found enough supporters across the musical spectrum to be named artist of the year at the 21st annual Minnesota Music Awards Monday night at First Avenue in Minneapolis.
    The Twin Cities quartet also won Minnies for best punk band and best punk recording ("Versus God"). It was the group's first Minnie awards since starting seven years ago.